Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone: Rewrite
by DarkLordErebus
Summary: My version of the Harry Potter universe. Characters will be different. Our story starts like most, with the beginning. In the middle of a quiet street, a small four-bedroom house stood defiantly against the oncoming night. Bright lights shone from the windows, and if you listened carefully, laughter could be heard from the inside. It was the very definition of a happy home.


Our story starts like most, with the beginning. In the middle of a quiet street, a small four-bedroom house stood defiantly against the oncoming night. Bright lights shone from the windows, and if you listened carefully, laughter could be heard from the inside. It was the very definition of a happy home.

However, the inhabitants of this house had a secret. Indeed, the Potters were a very unusual family. If you were to ask their neighbours, they would tell you of the tall black haired man who always seemed to have a smile on his face, and the pretty young lady with a sparkle in her emerald eyes, along with their cute young baby, who looked a perfect mix of his parents. However, not one of them would be able to tell you what the man or woman did for a living. In fact, they would not be able to tell you the name of the house where they lived, nor would they be able to point it out. When asked about this, a glazed look would appear in their eyes, and they would simply walk away.

It was this situation that had been frustrating a man for weeks now. He had been trying to find the Potter's home for a long time now, unsuccessfully of course. It was this night he was seen walking down the street with a grin on his face. He has finally found someone who could divulge the Potter's location to him. His red eyes glinted with happiness, and no small amount of anger. He would punish the Potters for trying to hide from him.

The man wore slightly odd clothes. On his torso was what many would describe as a hoodie, with the hood covering his head, shrouding his face in darkness, with the only thing visible being his unusual eyes. For trousers, he had settled on a normal pair of jeans, trying to blend in as much as possible. He had to admit, the clothes were very comfortable compared to what he usually had to wear in front of people. He was glad at the opportunity to blend into the crowd a little.

With a small smile, he approached the Potter's front door, a small grin fighting its way onto his face. With an unusual amount of grace and purpose, he knocked on the bright red door.

James Potter was having the time of his life. His beautiful wife was looking after his small son Harry at the moment, playing with him and enduring his childish requests that James found hilarious. It was this picture, this image of a happy family, which made him so happy. In these times, moments like this were rare, and he hadn't had one for far too long.

His wife stood up, and saw her husband looking inordinately happy, which made her happier than she already was. She walked over to her husband, and after a chaste kiss, looked deeply into his eyes.

"James Potter, do you know how much I love you?" she said, a playful grin appearing on her lips.

"Of course I do Lily, everyone loves me!" the man exclaimed cockily.

"Oh really? Even Albus?" she said cheekily. The man shuddered. It was clear that the picture of this 'Albus' loving him was a disturbing one.

Their perfect moment was interrupted by a confident knock on the door. James groaned, but walked over to the door grudgingly.

"What's Sirius doing here at this time? It's nearly midnight, for Merlin's sake." He complained, opening the door as he did so. By the surprised look on his face, this man was clearly not Sirius.

"Who are you?" James shouted at the hooded figure, who had his head bowing to the ground, waving a small piece of wood with strange engravings covering it. Instead of a reply, he got a small chuckle as his reply. The chuckle slowly turned into full blown laughter, the man throwing his head back in mirth, his hood coming off at the same time. When the man had finally stopped laughing, he lifted his head back up, and his face was clearly visible for the first time. Short dark hair, almost black, adorned his head, untamed and wild. Red eyes glowing in amusement. Aristocratic features in contrast to his wild looking hair. A wide smile, stretching his slightly pale lips.

It was clear both Lily and James recognized the man, and both backed away quickly, strange sticks pointed directly at him.

"Voldemort." James breathed, his eyes wide and panicked. The man just grinned harder, stepping over the doorway.

"Please, we are in your home. It would be improper to refer to me by title. You can call me Tom." The man, Voldemort or Tom, spoke in a friendly manner, a complete opposite to James and Lily's fear and anger.

"Why are you here? What are you doing?!" Lily shouted, clearly off put by the man's nice demeanour. The man was currently sitting down on one of the armchairs. The way he sat made it seem like he was on a throne. It was clear the man was very confident in himself.

"Please, it would be remiss of me to not follow proper protocol. I am a visitor in your house, I must be polite." Tom said, indicating with his hand for the Potters to sit on the couch opposite him. The Potters themselves were clearly wary, but they knew that Voldemort held the advantage. He had walked through all their protections, and they stood no chance in a fight without an army on their side. Lily picked up small Harry, and they slowly mad their way over, waiting for Tom to start attacking them. When he did not, they relaxed a small amount, believing themselves safe for now. As they sat down, Tom leaned forward, a calculating look in his eyes.

"Now, I would imagine you are wondering why you are not dead already, correct?" he asked, looking both of them in the eye, only briefly glancing at Harry.

James and Lily stared at him, seemingly only able to nod at this odd situation.

"I would like to arrange deal. You see, the both of you are very powerful, and it would be a shame to kill such gifted people." Tom explained calmly. James glared angrily at him.

"We would never join you, monster!" he shouted clearly angry at the very insinuation. Tom, however, seemed unbothered.

"That is not what I am suggesting." He placated.

"Then what are you suggesting?" Lily said, much calmer that her husband.

"I am merely saying that you could completely avoid this conflict. I will not attack you, and will even protect you from other threats. All I ask in return is that you raise your son with no knowledge of our world." Tom stated, looking at Lily.

James stood up angrily, fury etched into his face. "We would never do anything for someone like you! No deal!" he shouted, pointing his odd stick directly at Voldemort's face.

Voldemort sighed. "A shame. I was so hoping that we could come to an agreement. Oh well, it can't be helped I suppose." And with that, he stood up, drawing his own odd stick, made of a white wood, and quickly aimed at James' heart. A second later, a tearing noise came from James' chest. It only took a few seconds for his torso to explode in blood, a gaping hole left where his heart should have been. Lily stood stock still for a few seconds, staring down at her husband's bloody corpse. After shaking of her shock, she grabbed Harry tightly, and began to run. She clambered up the stairs, barely able to keep a hold on her son as she made her way to his baby room. She slammed the door behind her, and quickly but gently placed her son into his cot. She turned around, her own stick clasped firmly in her hand, defiance written on her face. If one were to look closely, they would see small tears making their way down her face.

Lily could hear footsteps as Voldemort made his way confidently up the stairs, the sound echoing through the strangely silent house. She raised her stick, pointing it at the door, just as it crumbled into dust. Voldemort stepped smoothly through the new opening, his eyes quickly taking in the entire room, before landing onto Lily. A grin appeared on his pale lips.

"I will give you one last chance. Step aside, and allow me to take the child, and I will let you live." Voldemort tried to persuade her, slowly moving towards her and Harry.

"Y-You just killed my husband, I won't let you take my boy as well!" She shouted, waving her stick, causing a wave of fire to envelop Voldemort. Lily grinned triumphantly. Said grin faltered when the smoke from the fire dissipated, leaving an unaffected Voldemort in its wake. He now looked angry, and a quick swish threw Lily into the wall. She felt a huge pain coming from her head, and realised that she probably had a concussion. As she struggled to get up, Voldemort walked over. He had picked up a toy lying on the floor, and with another wave of the stick, it slowly morphed into a wooden spike, easily the size of his arm. Carrying it in his left hand, he placed his other hand on Lily's shoulder, before starting to talk.

"Silly, silly girl. I gave you a chance that I rarely give to anyone, and you had the gall to refuse me? That, my dear, is the definition of stupidity. And I had heard such good things about your intellect."

As he said this, he slowly maneuvered the wooden spike towards her chest, just underneath her ribcage.

"It is a shame that such remarkable talent has to go to waste, but needs must I suppose." He said softly into her ear. She looked groggily but defiantly into his eyes, challenging him.

With a slight movement of his hands, Lily Potter faded from life.

He looked down at her body and sighed. He had meant what he had said; he didn't want to kill her. His eyes turned to the only other living thing in the room. Harry gurgled, not quite understanding what was going on. Tom walked over, looking straight into the infant's eyes. What was he going to do with the child? He had planned on him being simply ignorant of his power. He couldn't let someone who could be a threat to him thrive, that would be stupid. He didn't want to kill the child, that was distasteful even for him, but it seemed like the only option. If he left him, that old fool Albus would take him and train him to fight Voldemort. That couldn't be allowed to happen. He couldn't abandon the boy in a random country; there were too many variables that he wouldn't be able to predict. With a drawn out sigh, he raised his white stick and pointed it right between the eyes of the child.

"I am truly sorry for what I must do child, no one should have to go through this at such a young age. But I see no other choice. Goodbye." He whispered softly, and the room flared with a green light, going straight towards the baby. Tom closed his eyes, not wishing to see the actual death of the child. When he opened them a few seconds later, they widened in shock.

The child was still alive, looking perfectly normal.

Tom gaped. What sorcery was this? It was impossible. No one could survive the killing curse! But, it was clear that this child had. Was this the power that was foretold to destroy him? He couldn't let such power be used against him. He paused to consider his options.

A few minutes later, his eyes lit up with an idea. He would just have to make sure that the child didn't WANT to destroy him. With a plan going through his mind, he disappeared from the house, and indeed, the neighbourhood, leaving a small child looking around at an empty room.


End file.
